Those of us who entertain a rigid notion as to what fiction—or reality, for that matter—must be may be of opinion that truth can be noun

Monday, November 7, 2011

Birds, Fat Boys and Little Men!

What was I saying? Yeah! I forgot
to take my Veracity Spectacles off.

Our ship was floating over miasma having entered earth’s atmosphere. Birds were sweeping down across right below
us. In their claws clutched for prey were little men. Or was it? Some of them
were fat boys. It was simplicity to assume they were captives clutched and
dropped against their own volition. In actuality, some of them waved at us and
even winked. The rest of them had they caught sight of the ship would have
smiled, stuck their tongues out, grinned, put their fingers up or ground their
teeth. These are essential human expressions as we’d come to learn and must be
anticipated. But from such a state of euthanasia, it wasn’t. Birds persuaded
little fat boys and men. Or was it the human pack? When the claws released them,
dropping deep down below they exploded. Some of them were immobile but for the inertia
of descent while others spinning all the way down to respective targets. The
smoke was infuriating. The ship had its Armor Forther on, yet it shook a
little. Birds abandoning their flight plunged into the madness below. I hadn’t
slept the last day and I was so exhausted I slept with the spectacles on. The
clouds would take their time before raining down a cascade of toxins. I had no
intention of catching that sight. I’d much rather shut my system down and dream
of harmless nightmares.

When I woke up, the ship was far
away from earth’s atmosphere. Earth
rendered uninhabitable by earthlings. That was what my console had to say. We’re
sailing home to tend our own. It was sad we couldn’t do our planetarian work
for Earth but it was solace to know I’d soon get to walk the dusty sands of my
home planet.